Freedom: It starts with chains
by The unwritten promise
Summary: I was captured. Tortured. Enslaved. Forced to do bad things to good mutants, others like me. Convinced that I was a monster. Shown that there was no real good in the world. Forced to hurt in more ways than one. Broken down and built up into the perfect machine. But then I met her. Her resolve saved my own. My love bloomed. Her affection grew. Together we found humanity.
1. Unbroken

My cell was cold when they threw me back into it, slamming the doors behind me while I shook my head and sat up against my aching body's wishes. Turning around I shuffled backwards and propped myself up against the steel wall, staring at the bars in front of me as I coughed and rubbed away the dribble of blood from my busted lip on the blue bandana about my wrist. It's the only thing they let me keep, the only thing remaining of who I am.

Looking down on it I grimaced and turned away, my eyes going to the floor in front of me as I stretched out my legs and rubbed them tenderly, massaging the bruised flesh to keep the blood flowing in the way that Donny taught me. Every day (or night. Time merges into one long flow in the darkness I'm never allowed to leave) the beatings get worse and I don't know how much longer my resolve can last for. All they want from me is a name, my name. And yet every fibre of me spits rage at them when they come to get me. Every time I close my eyes for sleep I tell myself I will ease my suffering and give them my name, but as soon as I wake and the cell door opens my fire is back and my weakness vanishes.

The session I just endured was more painful than the last. It seems the bastards that hold me have finally begun to get more creative with their punishments at last; it's a good thing too, I was getting tired of the beatings and whips. This time they decided a wet sponge and increased volts of electricity would be more beneficial, but still they couldn't tear so much as a grunt from my throat. And I'll die before they hear me scream.

The men that hold me wear masks and hoods to cover themselves from me, and just lately they've taken to nicknaming me Buck, like I care. They can call me what they want, as soon as the time comes I'm making a break for it. I've managed to work out the level of order here, but the guards that patrol the block of cells I'm stationed in change every fortnight. I think it's to stop familiarity, not that it works. I have every face memorised, and I will get my vengeance before my time here is done. You have my word on that. The level of order, from what I've managed to grasp, is that the grunts patrol the cells and report to the Warden. The Warden then reports to the manager of the area and he replays the information for the owner of whatever hell bent place I'm in. It's not too creative but it gets the job done.

My cell is number three thousand and sixty five and I'm prisoner fourteen thousand two hundred and eight. How do I know? Because they gave me a set of tags as soon as I came to this shithole. The tags are silver in colour and attached to a metal chain that's too tight for me to take of without a knife of some kind to slash it with. There are three tags attached to this chain. Every so often I get a knew one and it gets smouldered on before they knock me out with some drug in a dart and reattach it to my neck like a dog.

There's no light in this place, but after a while my eyes managed to adjust to the darkness and the words became clear. The engraving on the first reads:

_Prisoner Number: 14,208_

_Name: Unknown_

_Area: 12 – Breaking Unit_

_Age: Unknown_

_Sex: Male_

_Date Acquired: 28/11/2008_

_Section: None_

_Status: Unbroken_

_Body: Worker_

_Offspring: Unknown_

_Relations: Unknown_

I'm still not sure what some of them mean or refer to, but some are obvious. I smiled a little at the '_unbroken'_ and moved onto the next tag, letting the prior one drop to my chest. The second tag dates for three weeks after the first and remains pretty much the same.

_Prisoner Number: 14,208_

_Name: Unknown_

_Area: 16 - Holding Section_

_Age: Unknown_

_Sex: Male_

_Date Acquired: 19/12/2008_

_Section: None_

_Status: Unbroken_

_Body: Worker_

_Offspring: Unknown_

_Relations: Unknown_

My final tag I received only seven sleeps ago. Whether that's seven nights or seven weeks I couldn't tell you. I've lost all track of time and its meaning in this place. All I know is that it's been a lot longer than three weeks since my second tag.

_Prisoner Number: 14,208_

_Name: Unknown_

_Area: 12- Breaking Unit_

_Age: Unknown_

_Sex: Male_

_Date Acquired: 13/9/2009_

_Section: None_

_Status: Unbroken_

_Body: Worker_

_Offspring: Unknown_

_Relations: Unknown_

Not a lot's changed. From what my tag says I'm back in the breaking area, but that doesn't mean the beatings stopped while I was in the holding area. Hell no. If anything they only got worse. Not that it matters. I've taken worse.

Looking about my dinky cell I took in all my surroundings. There are three cement walls about me, two on either side and one behind me. The wall in front of me is made up of steel bars so that the guards can keep an eye on me, as if they think I can merge myself through metal or something. Across from me lie another group of cells, the name of which is plastered above along with the prisoner's number on a wooden stack. From where I'm sat I can clearly see the prisoner number 15,793. So this guy, whoever he is, has been here less than me. Huh, go figure.

The guy opposite me shuffled forward as a guard walks past and away from us, his footsteps trailing away, and I got a good look at the kid for the first time. He's a mutant turtle, like me, and his skin is light green, similar to my own, and it's blotched in all different places with darker patches. The hair on his head is a thick mop of brown and his eyes are a wide and horrified hazel, glazed over and pained. His plastron is almost cream coloured and it's littered with deep lingering purple bruises, and he's looking at me, scared. From what I can tell he's about thirteen, maybe fourteen years old, or he could be younger, either way he looks a lot worse than I did at that age.

I looked away and down at the floor. I can't help him. It seems that, like me, he refused to give his name and now he's paying the price. Of all the time I've been here I'm still not sure why a name is so important, or just what the shell _is_ going on. All I know is that I was brought here, and for over a year I've been given the brutal treatment for my refusal to give in.

When I first came here and saw another mutant I thought I was hallucinating. I had just had a pretty rough beating and my skull had been bleeding when I saw the old man hunched over and crying as they dragged him away. He wasn't a turtle like me, but rather an old and greying wolf. Half of his teeth had gone with age and his silky white fur was turning a rough grey. The pants he wore were filthy and ripped and his howls seemed to echo of the rafters as he wailed his name over and over at them. But it wasn't like they listened. I never saw that man again, and I don't know what happened to him either, but I know it wasn't good.

After that the concept of other mutants became less of a new idea and more of a rational thought to me. It was obvious we couldn't have been the only ones, but I had heard nothing of another ooze spill anywhere, and I'm pretty sure Donny would have mentioned if he had found out something new in our DNA. So where had they all come from?

The boots crossed our path again and the kid yelped and moved back from the bars when the guard smashed his crow bar against the steel. The guard laughed and walked back up the corridor, hollering behind him "LIGHTS OUT IN FIVE MINUTES MONSTERS." And then he left.

I growled, out of instinct more oft than not, and let out a sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. It's been so long since I've seen any of my family. I miss them all so much. I'd give anything to hear Master Splinter's voice, one of Donny's lectures on quantum physics or even just to hear Mikey babble about his comic books. Heck I'd give half my life to be able to have a brotherly argument with Raph one last time. But by the looks of things, I'm not going to get any of that anytime soon. Not unless a miracle happens anyway.

"Psst! Hey Mister." I cracked an eye open and stared at the kid across from me as he pushed his beak against the bars and checked the clearing for guards. When he realised there was none he turned his eyes back to me and continued. "You got any food?"

I frowned. I always had food. It was only ever low quality slop, but it was still food. When I first arrived in this place I was thrown into a cell and strung up by rope to be analysed by a fat greedy man with little beady black eyes. He saw my muscles and the strength I had and he ordered my punishment to be light and that I be fed enough to keep my physic up until I was broken so that I could be put to work. Apparently they didn't count on me being literate in English because they found me in the jungle. Heh, what a surprise it was for him when I told him where to shove it. Unfortunately, after that they stopped talking around me and instead decided to deprive me of human contact.

I don't know when it happened, but I became agitated often. I started to resent contact and any voice that spoke to me was harsh and said offensive things. It took me a few days to understand that they wanted to break me emotionally rather than physically. For what reason or purpose I still don't know, but I know that it hasn't worked. And it won't either.

After a few more shocked moments I managed to get out of my stupor enough to shake my head and start my way forward on my hands and knees, wincing as the cuts and scars split open and bled. I reached the bars and slipped my dish through the steel, looking left and right before I pushed it along the floor and into the reach of the kid opposite me. The boy's eyes immediately lit up and he snatched up the plate, shovelling the gruel into his mouth with such haste it reminded me of Mikey slightly. He would always shove his face with junk after a late night run, depleting the objective of the run completely.

The kid licked the bowl clean and smiled, some of the brown mush staining his hair as he handed the bowl back. "Thanks Mister. Yano, I didn't expect you to give it to me." He seemed genuinely surprised before he noticed the gruel in his hair and licked it of.

"Then why did you ask?" My voice was scratchy and raw from the lack of use and it sounded harder than I intended it to be.

The kid shrugged and looked away. "I was hungry."

I stayed silent and laid down as the lights went out with a heavy _click_. From opposite me I could hear the kid shuffle repeatedly and it irritated me. A lot. All my other cell mates had been too scared to move, but this kid just wouldn't sit still "Will you sit still already, I'm trying to sleep." I cracked an eye open to glare at the kid and frowned when he rolled his eyes. I knew I sounded rough, and it scared me to think that I even sounded a little like Raph, but I'm tired and I hurt, my nerves keep twitching from the electric volts they ran through me and my eyes are begging for sleep so I can stay focused for the torture that'll undoubtedly come tomorrow.

"Wow, you're really sour huh? What did they do to ya? Force ya to suck lemons?"

"You know, I'm really regretting giving you that food." I closed my eyes and was thankful when he fell silent.

"Do you have a name?"

I growled in the dark as the annoyance ran through me. Another thing I noticed about me being in here was that my patience was wearing thin. Of all the years I spent with my brothers and my patience was only just now starting to crack. And it was because of this strange kid that just wouldn't shut up. "If I won't tell them what make's you think I'll tell you?"

Again he shuffled and I let out a long deep breath when he spoke. "Because we're the same. Dude we're on the same side-"

"No." My voice was biting tough and I knew I was being hard on the kid, but we weren't the same. The difference between us was that I have been here longer, I have suffered more, and I'm going to get out. This kid seemed young and naïve, he's talking to a complete stranger as if he's known him all his life, and his chances of survival are fifty fifty at best. I've seen tougher mutants come in with six humans on each limb and leave in a body bag being held up by two of them. "We" I pointed at myself, then at him, then back at myself. "Are not the same. You're a young pup, I'm a seasoned warrior-"

"You can fight!?" I immediately regretted saying I was a warrior. His squeaky voice was so loud I was scared it would bring the warden down on both our hides. Then neither of us would be getting any sleep.

"Shhh! Will you keep your voice down!?" I sat up, giving up on sleep for the time being, and stared at him. "Yes I can fight."

"Then why haven't you busted your way out of here?" He asked, his head tilting to a side in genuine confusion.

I looked away and fiddled with my blue bandana about my wrist. "It's not as easy as that."

"Sure it is." He smiled at me and made some punching motions. "You just go all mental on the guards and then we escape-"

"We?" I shook my head and raised up my hands. "Kid, there is no-"

"Davo."

"Huh?" His voice was so faint I almost hadn't caught it.

"My name." He leaned forward a little, checked none of the guards were coming as they patrolled the thousands of cells, cupped his hands about his mouth and whispered a little louder. "It's Davo."

"Well Davo," I growled, completely perplexed by the trust the kid was showing. "There is no '_we'._ There never will be a 'we'." I folded my arms and grimaced when my fingers touched a painful black bruise.

"What?! Why?" His face fell and I immediately felt guilty. It was as if I had kicked his pet puppy and told him he couldn't keep it.

"Because you're a liability-"

"No I'm not! I promise I'm not a liab- a liabbi- a liabbit-"

"A liability."

"Yeah." I rolled my eyes at him and he frowned. "You know, you're not a very nice turtle."

I scoffed. "Wow, you sound just like my brother. You and him should hook up some time, I'm sure you'd get along great."

"You have a brother?" He asked, his eyes wide. "Are they warriors too?"

I mentally cursed myself and frowned. "No. I don't have any brothers." It killed me to say it out loud, but the kid was getting way too nosy. "Now go to sleep before the guards get the Warden!"

"But you just said-"

"Forget what I said. Go to sleep Davo!" I hissed, laying back down and attempting to drown out the sound of him thinking.

"So…" I sighed as the word escaped his lips. "Are you going to tell me your name?"

I let out a louder growl. "For the last time, no!"

"Mind if I name you?"

I opened both my eyes and turned to him, the bite in my voice dangerous. The only person to challenge me when I spoke like that was Master Splinter; shell even Raph new to back of. "Go. To. Sleep."

He hummed lowly and smiled. "I think imma call you Zeyhule."

I gave up. There was just no way of getting through to this kid. I turned my back slowly and laid down away from him, shuffling back into the darkness so that he couldn't see me and letting out one last huff before I closed my eyes.

"Oh I see, you're tired. Okay, we'll talk in morning Zeyhule." I could practically see Davo smiling as I let out one last growl and frowned.

Great, now I have three names. I can't use one of them and the other two I don't want. There's a pain in the neck stuck as a lodger opposite me and my life could end at any second. Could life get any worse?

My cell door opened with a squeak and I almost drowned as a hose was turned on with _freezing_ cold water. Before I could think about what was happening my hands and feet were slapped in all too familiar irons and a gun was pointed at my face by one of the masked guards while a thicker, bulbous dinosaur of a man stood behind me and held something sharp beneath my throat. Behind the man wielding the guns head I spotted a group of men pull Davo out of his cell in cuffs similar to my own before he was smacked in the back of the head with a thick club that looked as if it had been stolen from the stone ages.

I stepped forward, the growl ripping from my throat as I started menacingly for the suddenly frightened man in front. But before I could take another step a sickening crunch escaped from my skull and I fell forward to my knees. My head felt as if it was splitting open, my very brain ripping in two as the warm sticky liquid trailed down my neck. The blackness swamped me as I watched Davos get pulled down the corridor by his wrists.

The darkness hit me as I saw more men enter my cell. In answer to my question from earlier, yes, apparently things can always get worse.

* * *

please go easy on me. This is my first ever TMNT fic and I know they are not mutants, but Leo doesn't yet, does that make sense?

Please R&R as it helps me improve and I hope anyone who reads this likes. I know Leo is ooc, but there are reasons and he does get back to normal as the fic progresses :) thanks

Oh, and yes, there will be OC's in this and the bro's dont appear till later, like half way through kinda thing.


	2. The Market

I was cold again. Heh, you'd have thought I would have forgotten what it feels like to be warm by now, right? I guess you could say it's been a while since I was last warm. Hell, it seems like forever since I last saw the sun. Not that anybody cares, to them the only thing that matters is my spirit and how fast they can break it. And the bastards that hold me are just sore because it's still as strong as the day they dragged me in here.

In case you're wondering what happened to me after I blacked out, there's not a lot to tell. I was dragged into the same black room and a spotlight was put over my head, blinding me slightly like it normally does. From the shadows the blows would come and my grunts would ring out as they continuously asked me the same damn questions. _What's your name? Are there any others? How old are you? Do you have any 'spawn'? Where do you come from? _And at each silent answer they received from me they would growl and throw blow after blow.

Eventually a harsh crackling rang out and they stopped beating me to answer the call. I don't know what was said because it was in a different language to my own. Maybe Spanish? I'm not sure; just lately even remembering English is becoming a chore. Anyway, I was brought back here. To my cell. And that's where I am now, rubbing my sore legs and trying to wipe away the blood with my tattered blue rag. My arms hurt from the constraints, my legs throb from the hits, my torso aches from the chains and there's a pretty nasty lash on the left side of my face from a vicious attack with a knife. Needless to say, I'm a wreck. A complete and utter physical mess, but I'm still strong mentally. At least I think I am anyway. Who knows, I could have completely lost the plot by now, dreaming this up while I'm sat in some straight jacket somewhere. But I think that's highly unlikely.

Looking up and across from my legs I spied the empty cell and wondered were Davo could be. The kid was dragged of a lot faster than I was, I remember that much, and I know I haven't been unconscious since I last blacked out, so he hasn't been back without my notice.

I closed my eyes as the sound of sobbing and wails ran through the brickwork to slide up my spine. I hate those noises. They're worse than the beatings. Seriously, there's only so long someone can go listening to children cry as they're torn away from mothers, brothers whimpering in the darkness at the loss of a sibling, women crying at the sick torture they're forced to endure and the old and sick groaning through the walls, begging for release. After you've heard all of that you might begin to understand what I'm feeling. But until then there is just no possible way to understand. I tell ya, it drives men mad. Drives me mad.

The saliva in my mouth swam with blood and I was forced to spit it out as the doors on the end creaked inwards and four sets of boots rang out, stiff and confident. They broke through the sobs as the warehouse fell eerily silent. I held my own breath, glaring through the bars as the boots stopped outside my cell and wicked green eyes gleamed down on me, the crows feet at the side of them stitched upwards in what I suppose was a confident smirk from beneath the neck scarf that hid the mans laughter by concealing his face from me. His eyes were down while his supporters openly grinned at his back, none of them wearing any kind of cloth to hide their face, and I made a note to mark them all. They won't escape.

The men standing behind the obvious leader were thick and bulbous, their shoulders ripping with muscle as their small legs stood out of proportion from the rest of their bodies, completely unbalancing them. How they manage to stand upright God alone knows. Then again, if God were real, what's he doing letting this happen? I'm not exactly a good mutant; I have weaknesses and faults like everybody else, but surely that doesn't mean I, or anybody else in here for that matter, deserves this.

Looking up at the dart gun poised at my head I frowned and let out a growl. I've only just recovered from the grogginess from the last drug, what the hell do they want me for now? The dart fired and the small white cylinder with the pink feather stuck fast in my neck. I admit that I didn't try dodging the blow. Why? Because I'm an injured mutant in a tiny cage surrounded by three brick walls, bars and four armed men. I said I'm not broken, I didn't say I was stupid. My life still has some meaning to me, and while it still holds some value I can't be broken. Getting myself killed would do nothing but defeat the object of my resilience.

The grogginess set in again and my head began to grow heavy, turning to lead as I spied the metal dog tag hanging in the vacant hand of the man in front. It clanked heavily, the silver gleam mocking me as my eyes closed and opened as if they were stiff with glue. My world faded and the man with the neck chief's last words ran through me, taunting my sleep.

"You heard the Boss. The brat cracked. We take some blood and we ship 'em out tonight. Boss wants 'em on The Market by dawn."

* * *

My head hurt. That was the first thing I registered in my mind before the rest of my pain jumped to attention, begging to be noticed as they set me on fire with tons of tiny needle pinpricks. I groaned, ready to curl back up and sleep before a realisation hit me.

I was moving. And not moving as in using my legs either. It was almost as if I was back in the armoured vehicle Donny and Raph put together…but that's impossible. The summersaults my stomach provided begged to differ and I slowly opened an eye to spy about the room.

The room was definitely moving, that much was for certain. But there was no Donny, and there was no Raph, nor Mikey or Master Splinter. The roar of the engine and the swinging rope above my head only confirmed my suspicions. So I'm in a truck. After a year in grey cell isolation I can't even begin to tell you how good that feels to say, even if I don't know who's driving or where I'm going. I sat up slowly and tapped the wall of the vehicle with my knuckle, rapping it twice for good measure and frowning when the bite of steel echoed about me. So I'm still trapped in a steel cage. Go figure.

My attention was soon snapped away as I stared at my hand out in front of me. My arm was wrapped and bandaged in clean cloths and I could openly see my arm, something I haven't been able to do without being attacked for a year. I flexed my fingers and smiled. You know, after so long in the darkness, you'd be surprise at the little things you miss in life, like colour and shades. I frowned at that. My skin isn't what it used to be. My usual light and healthy green is dull and pasty, almost as if I'm ill. Maybe my body knows something I don't.

I turned, looking behind me and inhaling deeply. The scent of air is fresh in here, not trapped and reeking of fear like it was back in the warehouse. But that doesn't tell me much, I already know I must be outside if the truck is moving, I mean, it can't be moving unless it's on a road, right? No, what caught my eye was the small slither of natural light that broke through the truck in various pinholes about the place, dotting me like a Dalmatian and providing a dim amount of light in my otherwise colourless world. Walking up to one of the holes I realised it wasn't enough for me to see through, but it was enough to comfort me in the thought that I wasn't back in my dingy cell.

"Zeyhule?"

I jumped completely out of my skin and turned with my shell to the wall growling into the darkness and berating myself for letting down my guard. I scoured the light and saw a small patch of green and brown getting up from the other end of the truck, moving towards me slowly and cautiously before the small voice spoke again, and I swear it's familiar. I frowned, my tired hurting brain trying its best to place the voice.

"Zeyhule it's me, Davo."

I squinted at the kid, halting my growl for a moment to spy dark green blotches and a patch of messy brown hair that drooped over tired eyes. "Davo?" I asked, my voice extremely scratchy. Damn, how long have I been out of it?

Davo smiled and began walking towards me faster. "Yeah it's me. You were sleeping for ages! I thought they'd knock you out for the whole journey."

"Journey?" I have to admit I'm a little confused. This kid sounds as if he's done this before and he doesn't seem worried at all… "What journey? And why am I in a truck?"

The kid gave a nervous laugh and turned his back on me, shrugging his shoulders and giving me a nervous lopsided grin from over his left shoulder as he blew his fringe out of his eyes. "How should I know why they let you out? You're a big turtle, you should know."

I growled again at the cocky remark from the little brat in front of me. "Hey! Watch your mouth kid or I might be the only turtle that lives to see the end of this journey."

He turned to me, the shock and hurt evident in his eyes as his shoulders stiffened a little. But what surprised me was the angry biting tone in his voice when he spoke. It was the complete opposite to his body language. "Why are you always so grumpy? You're always so angry!"

I frowned and let my back slide down the wall, resting my hand on my knees and looking away. This kid is so annoying, and I'm so confused. Everything just doesn't seem to fit, and just what the hell _is_ waiting for me when I leave this truck. Shell it could be something worse than what I left behind.

"Hey Zeyhule, umm…they gave you a new tag, right?"

I turned at the softer tone in the kid's voice and frowned, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth as the reckless driver went over a bump too fast and sent us flying. I landed heavily on my torso, hissing as I knocked some of the bruises before I finally spied a good enough look at Davo through the light.

His body is bruised slightly less than mine and there's a thin amount of white bandages around his upper right arm. I don't know what happened to the kid, but whatever it was it hasn't affected his personality. He's just as cocky and perplexing as ever. But what I can't figure out is why they'd stick me here with this brat.

Davo got onto his knees across from me and reached his hand out to touch me. I closed my eyes and growled, grabbing his hand before he reached me and holding it a little tighter than I intended as he attempted to pull away desperately and yelped.

"Don't." I mumbled, getting up and sitting back against the truck as I threw the kids hand back to him, watching as he rubbed his wrist and gave me a small glare.

"Geez… I only wanted to see if they gave you a new tag. They gave me one see." He pointed to the tag on his neck and shuffled awkwardly. "I'm not sure what it says though…" He looked to me expectantly and I ignored the hint. I'm not interested in this kid in any way, and I don't plan to be either. I can't get attached to anyone. I need to get out of here at the first opportunity that comes my way. No matter what it may be or what it includes. And if that means leaving this kid behind, then so be it.

He sighed and began tapping on the bottom of the truck, his fingers drumming against the metal and echoing inside my head so annoyingly that I started growling again. I don't even know when I'm doing it anymore, it just kind of happens. I guess my animalistic instincts were finally starting to kick in before they locked me in my moving prison with the annoying brat I would love to ditch.

"Stop that." I grumbled, turning to stare at him again and frowning when he smirked and began to tap harder, ignoring my warning and deliberately riling me up. "I said stop."

"I know." Davo smiled, rapping with his knuckles instead now so loud it banged inside my head and forced me to close my eyes so I wouldn't be tempted to strangle the little bastard. "But where I grow up they make us use something called manners. Know what they are?"

"I know you'll be dead if you don't pack it in!"

He continued banging on the steel floor and I finally cracked. "That is it! Kid you are so asking for it-"

"Asking for what? You're the one being a jerk-"

"Me?! You're the one banging on the damn metal!"

"I'm bored!"

"We're on our way to God knows where, were they'll do God knows what to us, and all you're concerned about is your damn boredom-"

"We're not going to 'God knows where'!" He shouted, sarcastically mimicking my own words as my shoulders shook with rage.

"Then where are we going Mister "I have all the damn answers!" I yelled, ignoring the man who screamed at us in an angry foreign language while he banged heavily on the metal cage we were in from the drivers seat, and for some unknown reason my anger bit up inside me and I found myself standing and turning to face the man (who was staring at me in a shocked stupor), pointing at him and heaving deep breaths to calm my rapidly rising temper. "And if you don't stop that bastard banging I swear I'm going to beat ten bags of crap out of you! Got it?!"

The man in the front said something else before he disappeared and the sound of rummaging came from the front of the truck followed by angry cursing. Davo had stopped banging on the steel and he was staring at me with a smile. What he was smiling about I couldn't tell you, but I was prepared to kill somebody. I just had so much rage; it was beginning to become the little things that set me of. The tinniest of things setting my temper flaring into a raging inferno.

"Now you," I turned to Davo and he immediately stopped tapping. "Where are we going, and how the hell do you know?"

He rolled his eyes and began talking as if he were explaining to an infant while I tried extremely hard to contain my left eyes twitching whilst I listened. "I told you. They gave me a new tag. It should say where we're going-"

"And where's that?"

He stopped and didn't answer for a moment before he looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. "The Market."

"Market? What market? Why are we going there?"

My head began to swim with questions and the truck teetered to the left violently, throwing Davo into me as he yelped and I grunted, my muscles flinching immediately at the impact as we ended up in a heap in the corner, both of us a tangled mess of limbs and frustrated noises. He managed to wriggle his way loose and turned to face me, his eyes distant and murky.

"The market's where they take all of the slaves. What did you expect them to do with you?"

I frowned, my anger becoming replaced with confusion as I began to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together. The "Market" at least explains why they wanted me broken, but what the hell is it? A place for slaves I've been told, and I'm a slave now. Apparently anyway. But I'm unbroken, so what the hell am I being shipped out for? And just what the hell are the slaves for?

I was about to ask Davo for more information on the Market and interrogate him on just how the hell he knew all of this before a steel shutter was pulled back from the front of the truck and a canister hissing of green smoke was thrown back at us. The gas filled the confined space easily enough and drowned the oxygen in my lungs.

I tried my hardest to hold my breath for as long as I could but I must be well out of practice because I didn't last very long. I watched as Davo's head bobbed up and down lightly as he fought to stay awake before he lost the battle and fell forwards, large snores escaping his body as I felt my own head begin to weigh down as if it had been replaced with concrete.

I never got to ask just what the hell the Market was or what the slaves were before I was unconscious once more. Somehow I think that the next time I wake my world will be changed forever. More than it already is anyway.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed this fic :) I'm sorry this took so long to get up but I really don't like this chapter, it's just so boring, so I will put action and a fight in the next one :)

Thank you to all my reviewers, when I was stuck on what to write I looked back at each and eveyone of your reviews more than once and they gave me the strength to get this up ^_^ Thank you

**Nikole - Thank you :) I have never seen Planet of the Apes (I know I need shooting lol) and I really hope you like this chapter ^_^ Thank you for the review :D**

**Secret - Thank you ^_^ It took me ages to get the balance right lol, but I'm not too sure on this one :( I feel it's too slow and needs more plot development in it. Thank you for the review :D**


	3. Fake Family

I growled at the second mutant to walk past me in the past half hour and watched as they picked up the pace, stuck their nose in the air and turned around the corner of glass cages. Let me explain. When I woke up, I was confused as hell. Turns out The Market is in fact the place where 'slaves' are kept. But it's not like I expected it to be. Instead, I'm in a small glass cage with tiny air holes in it that's barely large enough for me to stand up in. And on both sides of me is more and more of these glass cages, and in each of them some crushed mutant of some form or other. At the minute I'm squashed between a large parrot-like mutant with dull clipped feathers, and a small crying Arctic Fox, neither of which I've met before and both of which are filled with cut's and gashes.

I don't know what happened to Davo. When I woke up the kid was nowhere about. I'm not sure whether to be grateful for that or not…what if something happened to him? Guess I shouldn't worry. I mean, I have to think about how I'm going to get out of here now that my surroundings changed, and I'm sure the kid can handle himself…right?

I closed my eyes and banged my head back against the glass. I hate feeling trapped, it brings out the worst in me. It's just the idea that you can't get out if you need to, you know? That there is no viable escape plan if you need it. I guess growing up in the sewers of New York I had always made sure that, no matter the situation, there was always at least one way for me and my brothers to escape. Funny that the one time they didn't go with me I ended up in a place like this…

There was a faint tapping against the glass, soft and faint, and I opened one eye slowly to spy the mutant before me. She was old, but far from frail. She looked to be some mutation from a frog or toad, but her skin was far from slimy, instead it almost seemed dried out and scaly from what I could see. I had to look down to see her, and as a quick estimate I can tell you she only just managed to reach my waist, not that it seemed to intimidate her though. If anything, it only broadened the smile across her lips. Her hair was grey and tied up in a tight bun across her head where a small pin kept it neatly in place, and her clothes were simply a shawl and a loose white dress that trailed down to the floor.

Her green eyes twinkled and she tapped on the glass once more with her hand (which had one extra digit than my own with three fingers and a thumb). My response was to growl and close my eyes. I've had enough of other's like me sitting and picking out what I suppose is their favourites. Although I'm not too sure why one mutant would possibly want to own another. It doesn't make logical sense seeing as the men that dragged me here and imprisoned me were clearly human.

The tapping persisted. Harder this time.

"Zeyhule?"

I froze. Wasn't that what the kid had called me? Opening my eyes, I looked down on her almost uncertainly. "What?"

Her smile stayed firmly in place and again her croaky voice spoke up. Her English was heavily accented, and it didn't appear to be her first language, which made understanding her that little bit harder. "Zeyhule." As if to make things clearer, she brought her hand up to her own neck where a collar hung loosely against her saggy neck skin. "Is name?"

I shook my head. "No. Not name." I attempted to see the tag on the collar I had been given, but I couldn't see it, not properly. Giving up, I watched as she shook her head, almost appearing disappointed before she turned to her right and spoke in a foreign language where the words seemed to slip and slide together smoothly. Of course, I didn't have a clue what she was saying, and it was slightly unnerving to say the least.

My eyes flicked to the left as what looked to be another mutant appeared. I immediately recognised Davo despite the limp in his step and the painful squeamish frown. The old lady pointed back up at me, tapping the glass irritatingly once more, and as Davo's eyes followed I raised an eyebrow to find them light up slightly. His frown turned into a smile and he nodded back to the old women almost insistently.

She looked back to me doubtfully. "If name not Zeyhule, what is name?"

The scrutiny in her eyes startled me, and as her gaze swept over my frame I realised with a bite of resentment that she was weighing me up and judging me. Like she had any right to! "None of your business." I expected her to submissively shake her head like the others and shuffle on to give the other captives a quick inspection, but instead she tilted her head backwards and let out the most lively laughter I've heard in what feels like forever.

Heartily, she snorted into the back of her hand. "Good. Fire still in belly. Little One," she turned and placed her webbed fingers onto Davo's head, her smile almost that of a loving guardian…I've forgotten what it feels like to be looked at like that… kind of miss it, really. "Fetch Bronzion."

Davo nodded, pulling away from the old woman's hand and giving me one last wave with a quick wink before he rushed off through the growing cluster of mutants. Strange…I wonder what a Bronzion is. I watched the kid leave, still trapped in my thought bubble before I jumped somewhat awkwardly in my confined space when the tapping echoed against the glass once more. Sighing, my shoulders slumped and I looked to the old woman with tired, frustrated eyes. "What?"

She pulled her hand back and pressed it against her heart. "Me Nana."

"Nana?" I repeated the word slowly and almost cautiously. Does she know what that word means? And if so, does that mean that she has children in this God forsaken place? She certainly looks old enough to be a nana, and the prospect of children being held in this hell-hole is nothing new. I mean, there's a child Arctic Fox twitching besides me as the hungry eyes of these creeps looks him over. But still, does she know what the word means?

She nodded again, slightly hunched over as she peered up at me and stared once more, her gaze unblinking. I couldn't help but stare back. There was something about this old lady that just seemed to snatch my attention up. She wasn't like the others, she didn't look down on me or sneer with begrudging eyes. No, this old lady looked up at me, and she seemed almost warm, if I dare to think so after everything that's happened. She doesn't seem capable of being as heartless as the rest of these bastards. Then again, after what happened, I don't trust my sense of judgment with people's characters anymore. That's what landed me in this cursed mess in the first place, after all.

Finally Davo returned, panting and out of breath as he rested his hands on his bruised knees and smiled. His hair brushed against his face, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself. "I got him, Nana! He's getting the Chief and he's coming!"

"Good, Little One." With one last pat on Davo's head, she shuffled further along the row of glass cages and began attempting conversation with the other prisoners locked up.

Davo shuffled closer to my cage, drawing my eyes back to him as he looked down at the floor nervously and let out a hesitant laugh. "H-hey, Zeyhule-"

"You knew we were coming here." I folded my arms across my chest and watched as he fidgeted some more.

"Well…yeah, I guess."

"You said we were comi -"

"I thought you said there was no we?"

"There isn't!"

"But you just said-"

"Forget what I said, you knew about this, didn't you? You knew about this weird market place, didn't you?" More fidgeting was my answer before he finally nodded, still not looking me in the eyes. "How did you know?"

He shrugged, looked up to make sure Nana was still engaged with wandering around harmlessly before he leaned in close and showed me his tag. I had to crouch down to see it, but the indentations were as clear as Davo himself.

_Prisoner Number: _15,793

_Name: Davondran_

_Area: 9 – Agricultural Unit_

_Age: 12_

_Sex: Male_

_Date Acquired: 17/09/2009 _

_Section: Field's_

_Status: Broken_

_Body: Worker_

_Offspring: None_

_Relations: Brother: Zeyhule_

_Owner: Number 6,418_

I groaned out loud and pounded my fist against the glass, straightening up and watching as Davo jumped back slightly alarmed but with a new found fire in his eyes. "Great, kid! Just great. No wonder I was damn moved!"

"You're better off being in here then back in there!" Davo yelled back, his small fists clenching as he pointed up at me. "You should be thanking me!"

"What the hell for?" His finger fell and my eyes narrowed. "I bet, if I could see my tag, by my name it'll say Zeyhule, huh?"

He shuffled and rubbed the back of his head nervously, laughter spilling from his lips in a trembling heap. "Erm…um…maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Okay, maybe a little more than maybe. Maybe a lot maybe." I narrowed my eyes and his laughter turned into a small apologetic smile. "Maybe yes." A silence stretched between us and he dropped his gaze. "Just yes."

I sighed. I wasn't angry per say, but I was confused, and if there's one thing I hate feeling more than being trapped, it's being confused. "Why?"

"Cuz…" He stopped, faltered, looked about worriedly and shivered, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in once more. "I heard the bad men talking, and they was gonna send you off to the Area Six to be cracked."

My frown deepened. "What's so bad about Area Six?"

"What's so bad?!" Davo seemed outraged and upset by the question alone. His horrified eyes caught mine and I shrugged.

"Yeah."

"It's the worst place to be! My mamma used to tell me stories about the different Unit's, and trust me, nobody wants to go to Area Six!" His eyes narrowed and a cocky smile came to his lips. "Dude, you so owe me. If I wouldn't have cracked, you could be dead by now."

The snort escaped my lips before I could register it. It's not a noise I can ever remember making before, but that one confident look Davo gave me followed by those words struck something inside me. "You're blackmailing me?"

"No," his smile broadened, "not yet, anyway."

I leaned back against the glass. "Trust me, kid-"

"Davo!"

"Whatever. Trust me, you don't wanna blackmail me."

"Why not?"

A small smile came to my lips, the first one in so long that my muscles seemed to twitch at the frozen action. "Because I'm a master at revenge." I like to think that's true, although Mikey and Raph would probably argue with me until they were blue in the face that it was them.

This time it was Davo's turn to snort and repress laughter as his hazel eyes sparkled. "Oh yeah? If that's true, Zeyhule, then why are you on the inside of that cage?"

"Stop calling me that! It's not my name."

"And my name's not kid." Davo shot back, his tongue sticking out in a childish manner, and I had to actually repress the urge to roll my eyes at him. "Besides, if you won't give me your real name, what am I supposed to call you? And the guards are going to be thinking we're brothers now, whether you like it or not." He shot me an apprehensive smile. "It's on your tag, and unless you wanna go to Area Six and tell 'em the truth, you aint got no choice."

I was stumped for a moment. He had a point, although I'll never let him know that. And I suppose that, seeing as I'm in a weird place with weird people and a large range of exotic mutants, there's really not much choice in the matter of me trusting this kid. To an extent, anyway. As soon as I see a safe opening, I'm taking it, and I'm leaving. I looked down at my bruised frame and suppressed a wince. I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to wait until I'm a little better off, right?

"You okay?" Davo's voice was oddly concerned, and I must have shown some confusion because he quickly held his hands up defensively and elaborated. "Sorry, you just sortta spaced out."

I ignored my defence and turned my attention back to the little old lady that was making her way back towards us. But as she began to make her way across a young female wolf touched her arm softly and began introducing her to a young infant whose eyes were trained heavily on the floor. Tearing my gaze away, I looked to Davo once more and watched as he blinked up at the artificial lighting of the warehouse-like building.

"How do you know Nana?"

"Huh?" Blank eyes turned to me and this time I couldn't help rolling my eyes.

"How do you know Nana? Who is she? What is she?"

Davo's beak wrinkled ever so slightly before he smiled at my confusion, which began to frustrate me that little bit more. "That's rude! Nana's an elderly citizen, duh. I met her this morning. She's reeeaaaly nice, you'll like her, don't worry. She bought me this morning-"

"W-w-w-w-wait! She _bought_ you? What are you talking about?"

Davo frowned. "You're strange…are you from another planet or something?"

"It's starting to feel like it." I growled. "Just explain." When he continued to frown I forced extra effort into my words. "Please."

"O-kay…Well, you don't seem to get it, so let me start from the beginning. A whole bunch of years ago-"

"That's specific-"

"Hey! I'm telling the story! You can't interrupt!" I huffed at his outrage, slightly amused as he continued. "Anyway, all these years ago these men started coming to our home and kidnapping us. I don't really know exactly what happened, but my mamma and me ran away. We got seperated and a couple of weeks ago I got found and brought here. Mamma told me stories about these places. The Market is the best place to be because normally people look after their own, yanno? She promised she'd meet me here, in The Market, after we got split up." His smile brightened into a grin. "I'm going to find her. Anyway, people buy each other here and everybody works for the humans, but if you work hard enough, and you really try hard, you can sometimes buy your own freedom. I don't really know much else other than that."

I shook my head. "Great story, kid-"

"My name's not-"

"Kid. Yeah, I know. Few questions for you. What did you mean by 'us'? There's more of you?"

Davo seemed almost afraid by the question but he nodded all the same. "Yeah, of course. Why, where you born here or something?"

"No, I…" I stopped myself. I wasn't going to tell anybody where I came from, especially not Davo now that he revealed himself to be talkative. I mean, what if something else happened and he accidentally told where my family was? I don't want them to ever experience anything like this. Not ever.

"You what?"

"Nothing…it doesn't matter."

Before he could speak up and argue the point with me, which it looked like he was getting ready to do, Nana returned. She tapped him on the shoulder and he stepped aside. But that wasn't what caught my attention. What did catch my eyes was the large dark green (almost to the point where he looked black) turtle that seemed to dwarf me. His body was pure muscle, and the knots seemed to tighten thickly as he tensed and looked me over with surprisingly soft onyx eyes. His shoulders were hunched and he waited behind Nana patiently, his fingertips tapping together gently, almost as if he was…broken. The realisation hit me and staggered me to find that such a strong figure could be broken. How long had it taken the bastard men back in the Holding Sector to do that? Poor guy.

"Zeyhule?!" The annoying tapping was back against the glass and I sighed before looking down at Nana. The old lady smiled, glad to have caught my attention before she pointed back to the large anxious turtle behind her. She had to reach upwards to hold the larger turtle's hand. But she caught it all the same, stopping his fumbling and tapping the large turtle on the plastron energetically. "This Bronzion. Bronzion family." She released Bronzion's hand and placed her palm against the glass once more. "You family?"

The question was startling, and I wasn't sure what to say or expect at first. I looked past her and Bronzion to Davo. The young turtle was nodding his head almost urgently, pointing to his tag and ignoring the weird stares the other mutants gave him as they passed my small group of admirers. I looked back to Nana. I don't _want_ another family. I have a perfectly good one back home, and I want to go back to them. I want to go home. But if I decline this offer, could I end up in Area Six like Davo said? And even if I didn't, how long was I prepared to wait for someone else to come along so I could escape? I had to deal with this one step at a time. I could pretend to adopt a fake family for the time being, just to get me out of this glass cage. Then I would deal with the next issue, and the next. The problems had to stop at some point, right? All I needed was a little time to heal and gather my bearings on my surroundings so I could find a way home. Then I could escape and get back to my real family.

With that in mind, I gave Nana a small nod. She beamed, her eyes lighting up before she turned and clicked her fingers in the air. Her sleeve rolled back to her shoulders, revealing incredibly thin arms, and another figure began to push his way through the heavy bustle of mutants (it seems more have gathered to come and look at the items being traded). But unlike Bronzion, the figure that made his way through was cold, uncaring, and dripping with malice.

Another turtle appeared (I'm beginning to wonder if they're the most common mutant's in the vicinity). His upper body was heavily muscled, but he was still lean and looked well and fit. His jaw was rigidly set and hanging from his waist was a belt that held a long curling black whip. That immediately caught my eye. Why would this guy need a whip if all of the mutants were working together? It didn't make sense. As he approached Davo scuttled further into Nana and clung to the strong ladies leg and Bronzion's eye's immediately fell to the floor as he began fiddling with his hands once more.

"What do you want now?!"

Nana straightened up as well as she could with her hunched back. "Chief Drexion." She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small bag that jingled healthily. "Zeyhule." She pointed at me and Drexion raised an eye ridge.

"You're feeling a li'l light here, Nana." His voice was cold and dark, but he tied the bag to his belt all the same.

"No. Boy unbroken. Wounded. Damaged." She looked to me as I growled at the word damaged. I'm not damaged, just a little…smashed up. Nana turned back to Drexion and nodded stubbornly. "Right price."

"Look, Nana, if I could I would, but I gotta make a living here." His thumb came over to me and he tapped on the glass with his knuckles. "Guy's worth twice as much, yanno? I'd be shooting myself in the foot giving you him for this much."

Nana thought for a moment, her hand coming to rest around Davo's shoulders as she nodded again. "I give two day wages."

Drexion stilled, folding his arms across his chest and squinting at her. "Two day's pay, from each of you?" She nodded and he continued sceptically. "That go for the other's in your pod, too? Marlene and Navia, too?"

"Yes."

"Alright….Done." Drexion pulled out what looked to be a small silver pen with a red laser taped to the inside and headed towards my glass cage. Running it along the sides, I watched as the glass slowly began to melt away, almost as if it were nothing but water. For a moment I was perplexed, and I couldn't move as Drexion put the small gadget away. But when he reached for the whip my eyes narrowed and I gritted my teeth together venomously. I am so done with beatings!

Keeping my eyes fixed on the menacing turtle before me that fingered the whip in an almost eager manner, I stepped out of my cage and into the new world.

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Wow...it's been a long time since I last uploaded...all I can say is I'm sorry :( and sorry the action I promised isn't here yet. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed and sorry for the long wait! I haven't had chance to proofread yet, so I will as soon as I get the first opportunity!

**Nikole - haha, I'd like to think so :) Thank you, I'm glad you are enjoying the story and I'm so happy to hear you like it so much that it's one of your fave's :D **

**Secret - I see what you mean :) I think this story needs the readers to find out what happened to leo as the other characters do so there isn't a whole block of info to get through :D**


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